


Negotiations

by Laura_Mayfair



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Mayfair/pseuds/Laura_Mayfair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Laura play a game of cards. They do what they do best: they flirt, they banter, they frak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to fragrantwoods for allowing me to make a reference to Galen's Gift Emporium. And, as always, thank you to lanalucy for the beta! :)

It had all started during a friendly little game of cards with Kara Thrace and Lee Adama. The ambrosia had been flowing and Laura had spent a good part of the evening with a surreptitious hand casually stroking Tom’s thigh underneath the table. It was a near miracle that he’d managed to win at all when the only hands on his mind had been hers. The pilots had left the table for a few blessed moments and Tom had seized the opportunity to lean over to whisper in Laura’s ear, in explicitly vivid detail, all the things he wanted to do to her. He knew she liked it when he talked dirty, although she’d never expressly admitted it. That wasn’t her style.

“Win the next hand of cards and I’ll let you do that,” Laura whispered back in Tom’s ear, catching him by surprise. She nuzzled his cheek with a tantalizing touch of her lips.

His voice cracked. “And if I lose?”

Laura thought about it for a moment. “If you lose then we play the same scenario -- only _I_ get to be in charge.”

 _Well, hell_. Tom smirked. “Sounds like I win either way, Madame President.”

“One hand, Mr. Vice President. And if Kara or Lee win, all negotiations are forfeit.”

“I’ll just have to get lucky then.”

Laura gave him that bitchy little schoolteacher glare of hers, peering at him from above the rim of her glasses with those perfectly pursed lips. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? And stop staring down the front of my blouse. Exercise a little discretion.” He caught a glimpse of laughter in her eyes, a saucy awareness that she was being absurd. He liked her like this, vibrant and playfully irreverent. Circumstances didn’t exactly give her very much liberty to be carefree and she wasn’t always this relaxed with _him._

Tom brushed a few strands of hair away from her cheek and she almost seemed to tilt toward his outstretched fingertips. He wasn’t quite sure if the subtle movement had actually occurred -- or if it were merely wishful thinking on his part. He leaned in a little more, lowering his voice for effect, not because anyone was in earshot.

“Says the lady whose hand has been a mere few inches away from my boy bits half the night. Not that I’m complaining.” He grinned. “You’re delicious when you’re a little bit tipsy, you know.”

“I am not tipsy, Mr. Zarek. And you didn’t really just say boy bits, did you?” Laura took a prim sip from her glass as Lee returned to the table. She threw Tom a cautionary look and he withdrew from her, reluctantly sitting back into his chair. He could still feel the heat of her, still feel the heady remembrance of her nearness. She floated through every nerve ending in his body, right down to the cellular level of neurons and synapses. He wondered how aware she was of the power that she had over him in that single moment. He should resent her for it -- and yet he didn’t.

Tom was perspiring by the end of that fate-deciding hand of cards. The cards felt slippery in between his fingers. Laura had stopped rubbing his thigh. Instead, she had altered her tactics of distraction to sliding one bare foot along the contours of his leg. He imagined that elegant foot of hers pressing into his crotch instead and he only barely resisted the urge to fidget. Laura, by comparison, looked completely cool, a serene picture of innocence and concentration. Occasionally, she met his eyes over her cards, challenging him with an almost imperceptible quirk of of her mouth. One hand hovered against her throat, like a majestic bird poised for flight. She trailed a finger against her collarbone as she peered at the neatly aligned arrangement of cards that she held. The action drew his attention once again to her cleavage. He was almost certain that the gesture was calculated, but that was the thing with Laura, the almost-but-not-quite-certainty that she inspired, the riddle that he’d never solve. He imagined licking the groove that her fingertip traced, burying his head in between her --

Kara cleared her throat and Tom pulled it together, laying down his last card.

Lee was the first one to show his hand. Luck hadn’t smiled on him much throughout the evening and he gave a dispirited laugh as he placed his cards on the table. “Nothing.”

“Likewise,” said Laura, unfazed, as she flipped her own cards over.

“Well, hot damn. Someone's lucky,” giggled Kara when Tom revealed his cards, and she turned her own over simultaneously. He had only marginally beat Kara’s three up with his prince high red. Not a very stunning win but a win nevertheless.

_A win._

Tom glanced at Laura when she excused herself from their games with a little yawn. She was still so perfectly composed. There was absolutely nothing in her manner or posture that indicated that she’d done anything that evening other than play a few friendly hands of cards.

He knew that in another hour he’d show up at her door, telling her guard detail that his late night visit was due to some urgent presidential matter. She met his eyes for a moment before turning to go.

And he was sure she knew it, too.

* * *

 

Tom didn’t offer her any greeting. He merely pushed her hard against the wall, silencing anything that she might have said with a fervid kiss. His hands pressed into her shoulders as he held her firmly in place. He certainly wasn’t wasting any time. His tongue edged its way in between her lips, begging for entrance. She worked with him, opening her mouth and tilting her head to the side as he deepened the kiss. Her own tongue darted out to meet his and they engaged in a familiar dance, a dance that was no less thrilling than it had ever been. Familiarity never seemed to dull what they had. The sex had always been good -- too good. If it were mediocre, after all, she could have given him up a long time ago.

“You couldn’t possibly have procured the item in question in such a short space of time,” Laura pointed out with a soft smile as their lips separated for a moment before joining again.

Tom’s words were muffled but smug as he continued to kiss her. “I already had said item in my possession.”

The man really did have a wonderful mouth when he was using it for this purpose -- not when he was annoying her to no end with one of his long-winded speeches. It was a sensual mouth and he knew how to use it. He gave her three quick playful lip kisses and moved a hand to caress the curve of her neck. He swept two fingers down her throat before inching lower, just stopping at the cleavage that he’d been admiring all night. Meeting her eyes, he reached to cup a breast through the watery silk of her blouse.

He squeezed and she almost moaned; the sound came out as a hummed sigh instead. She watched as he dug around in the pocket of his suit with his free hand, producing a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. He dangled them in front of her face. Amused, she watched them swinging back and forth as he brought his mouth to her neck and sucked on her pale skin, swirling his tongue up toward her ear and then lavishing her with a series of tiny kisses.

“They’re _pink_ ,” observed Laura. But describing them as pink seemed like an understatement. The fuzzy velcro handcuffs were a bright shade of magenta that bordered on the proportions of neon. Tom nipped at her neck and all thoughts of color palettes abruptly ceased.

“I can get the metal variety if you prefer,” said Tom, “But not tonight.”

Laura shrugged. “Maybe.” Her smile was sweetly sinister, not that he would be able to see it with his lips pressed against her neck. “When it’s my turn to wield them.”

“I don’t recall quid pro quo being a part of our arrangement,” said Tom. He began kissing down her throat at an unhurried pace. He tossed the handcuffs onto her cot, freeing up both hands, and began to attend to the buttons of her blouse. He looked at her while he worked and Laura found herself gazing steadily back into eyes that were such an improbable oceanic blue.

“I should really put you over my knee for nearly causing the ruin of a good pair of pants tonight with your ministrations at the Triad table,” he said.

“Nearly? I’ll have to redouble my efforts next time.” She sighed. “You should thank me. It’s good politician training for you -- keeping cool under pressure. It’s not my fault if you lack basic self-control. And as for spanking me…” Laura shook her head vehemently. Her tone was dry. “You’d enjoy it far too much.”

Tom grinned at her in all too obvious agreement.

He pressed her. “You gonna teach me self-control at a Quorum meeting? A little groping behind the podium?” He undid the final button and tugged at her blouse until she assisted in the process of shrugging it off. “It would make some of those meetings a hell of a lot more interesting if you did.”

“I didn’t grope you. I _fondled_ you.”

“There’s a difference?”

Laura placed her palms against Tom’s chest and drew closer. She moved her hands upward to his shoulders and then coiled her arms around his neck. She gave him a firm closed mouth kiss, and when he pressed a knee in between her thighs, she gracefully rotated her hips.

“The difference between fondling and groping is finesse.” She drummed her fingers against the collar of his shirt. But when she moved her hands to his first button, he stopped her.

“No,” he said.

Laura tapped an idle finger against the button. “You’re the boss, Mr. Zarek.”

“You know, you’re almost delightful when you’re this obedient?” said Tom as he unclasped the back of her bra. “Almost.”

“Mmmm, well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know better.”

Tom undid the button on the side of her skirt and pulled down the zipper. Laura sashayed out of it, turning so that her bottom brushed up against his groin. He caught her around the waist and pushed his hips into her as she bent down to retrieve her skirt. He wrapped his arms around her middle, and as she stood up, she felt the entire length of his body flush against the back of her own. He was semi-hard already.

“Gods,” breathed Laura. “My shoes?”

“Leave them on.”

“Is that another fantasy?”

“One of many.” He paused. “You ever think about me, Laura?” She felt cool air on her neck as he swept her hair aside. Then there was the sudden warm wetness of his mouth sucking on her earlobe with a tug of his lips. “When you’re lying alone in bed and it’s dark?” They swayed together.

She closed her eyes, glad that he couldn’t see her face. “Yes.” The shared admission felt too intimate and Laura knew that it had nothing to do with the sex.

There was another pause and Laura heard him draw in a quiet breath. She could feel the inhalation just before he would have begun to say something but he stopped himself. When he did speak again, she was fairly certain that what he did say wasn’t what he’d originally intended.

“Bed,” commanded Tom, bringing them both back to territory that was familiar and solid. He released her but not before giving her bottom a playful smack. Sitting down on the edge of her cot, he patted the space next to him and picked up the bright pink handcuffs.

Laura laid down. “Where did you get these ghastly things anyway?”

Tom twirled them around a finger. “They’re love-cuffs,” he informed her with mock defensiveness. “I got them from Galen’s Gift Emporium. They were the free gift.”

She snorted. “Small wonder. What was the main item you purchased?” She was admittedly curious; it was well before they’d started frakking.

“A bottle of lube for myself and -- “ Tom shook his head as if he were trying to will the memory away, “-- an assorted list of items for our former president. I can probably name them for you if you really want to kill my erection.”

Laura laughed. “Gods, no.”

He bent down and kissed her, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “Awww, I’m touched that my hard-on means so much to you.”

She promptly tossed a pillow at his head. “Not as much as being spared the knowledge of Baltar’s sexual proclivities.”

Tom sighed. “If only I could un-know it.” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “If you cease being such a good little girl, I just might have to tell you.”

Laura narrowed her eyes. “That’s a whole new category of leverage.”

“It is, isn’t it? Hands above your head, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Laura scrunched up her face at the term of endearment but she did as she was told.

“It seemed appropriate. They are love-cuffs, after all.” Tom drew her hands together and placed the cuffs around them, securing the velcro. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

There was something almost clinical about laying sprawled on a bed, nearly naked except for her heels and underwear, while Tom was still fully clothed. He got a good, long look in before making any kind of move at all -- and when he finally did begin to touch her, the motions were small. He traced a fingertip along the waistband of her panties, caressed her knees and thighs, kissed her stomach. Palms against her rib cage, he licked a slow trail from her navel to the space in between her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked. She could feel the silk of his tie sweeping against her abdomen as he licked around her areola. It was a different sensation, not having the use of her hands to steer and direct, to slide into his hair, to touch his neck. He gave similar attention to her other breast, looking up at her as he tugged at the nipple with his teeth. She arched her back and moaned.

This time when he reached for the waistband of her panties, he didn’t hesitate but tugged them down roughly, impatiently disentangling them when they caught around the heel of her shoe. He carelessly flung both underwear and heels across the floor. A hand on each knee and he spread her legs apart. She cried out when his tongue made contact with her pussy, lapping at her from back to front and then circling the tip of his tongue around her clit.

And just as suddenly, he stopped what he was doing. Laura whimpered at the abrupt loss of sensation.

“Tom…”

His voice was unsteady. “I know, gorgeous. I’m not teasing you. I need to frak you just as much as you want it.”

Laura laughed, appreciating his honesty. “At last we agree on _something._ ”

He crawled up the length of her body and undid the velcro around her wrists. And when her hands were freed, they tumbled against one another in a flurry of haphazard groping and muffled laughter. They did a rather messy job of getting Tom out of his clothing but at least it was a combined effort.

“On your back, Zarek,” Laura said crisply, as she eased a long leg around his waist and pushed against his chest with her palms.

They flipped positions and Laura wasted no time. She sank down onto his cock with a delighted moan. She set a slow pace. Neither of them could handle fast. He thrust upward into her, erratic at first, but quickly catching on to her pattern of movement. He matched the punctuated downbeat of her rhythm and ground against her, drawing breathy little gasps from her throat each time he thrust.

“I’m not -- going to -- last,” he warned. He spurted inside her before the sentence was complete and Laura flicked two fingers over her clit, climaxing with him. Their combined moans echoed throughout the small space as they rode out the last waves together. Afterward, she lay down against his chest with his cock still buried inside her. He rubbed her back. They stayed like that for a bit and Laura began to feel drowsy. She should really kick him out before morning but the flimsy notion petered out in the soft warmth of the afterglow. _Later_ , she assured herself.

Bodies limp and heavy, they finally managed to disentangle themselves. Tom meandered his way into the head.

“You want some water?” he called. Laura was always thirsty after she climaxed.

“Mmmmm.”

Tom returned a couple of minutes later with her cup of water, a warm facecloth, and a dry towel. He parted her legs and cleaned off the sticky residue of their coupling.

“I’m chilly,” Laura announced blearily, to no one in particular as she reached for her blankets. Tom slipped into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Laura reciprocated with a sleepy kiss.

“I think we should keep the love-cuffs,” she murmured softly.

“Of course.” Tom chuckled and patted her hip. “I’ll uh...I’ll leave in a half hour or so. Discreetly.”

“Okay,” said Laura.

It was a lie and they both knew it. Sometimes lying was simply easier.

It was one of the few things that they agreed on.


End file.
